Ranger's Apprentice: Magic Knows No Bounds
by Mischivous Purple One
Summary: Yet another new one... *sigh* Ah well. Harry Potter dies killing volders. Will 'dies' after being gored by the boar in book 1. What was with the blue energy? And now the odd memories of a life not his own?
1. Chapter 1

M.P.O.: Reading the Ranger's Apprentice series and had, as usual, a plot bunny hop into existence and take up residence in my brain. I swear I come up with the weirdest crossovers, but hey, most of em are damn good when I get the kinks worked out... if I do say so myself. :) Then again, I think I might just leave that up to you guys. Please enjoy, and review!

Prologue: Life and Death

Green eyes narrowed in concentration, raw magic forming a small, crackling ball of white energy between his palms. Voldemort chuckled darkly, clearing his sword of blood with a quick swipe to the side.

"You think a little magic is going to stop me, Potter?" He shook his head, crimson eyes narrowing slightly at the defiance in Harry's posture. "Pity. I could have had so much fun with this. But alas, it grows dark and I do think I would like a spot of dinner soon. Goodbye Harry Potter." The Dark Lord gave a brief, maniacal grin, and darted forward, sword arching in from the side to deal a deadly blow. Harry yelled in fury, determined not to loose, and ran forward, his own blade forgotten as he ignored the weapon in favor of slamming the ball of raw magic directly into Voldemort's chest. A second later, white hot pain drove him to his knees as the sword sliced cleanly into his side, the thin blade slipping easily between his ribs and cutting open a lung like a hot knife through butter. He screamed, dropping to his knees, barely aware that Voldemort was writhing in agony, his skin bubbling like some of Snape's foulest potions, and steam issuing from his mouth and eyes.

Finally, with a last screech of pure fury and pain, Voldemort disintegrated, his bloodied robes dropping in a gooey pile. Harry, lying on his good side with both hands pressed to his wound, smiled faintly, summoning the energy to spit on said robes before closing his eyes and letting it all go.

* * *

Will yelled, jumping in front of Horace as the boar charged, his bow already swinging up with an arrow in place. A swift hiss as the arrow released, then a roar of pain as it struck, sticking in the mad animal's side. Unfortunately, the arrow hadn't gone deep enough to kill, and the enraged beast kept coming, bowling into the young boy with a scream of animalistic fury. Halt, seeing the failed shot, aimed, drew and shot, all in the space of two seconds. His arrow sung true, smacking into the soft spot at the base of the boar's neck and stopping its scream all in one smooth move. The animal dropped, twitching as it's nerves sent confused signals to a brain that no longer recognized them. The other hunters roared their approval, clapping each other on the back and celebrating the kill of two such huge beasts, while Halt swung down from Abelard and made his way to the dead beast, then stopped in shock.

Lying under the dead boar, his face pale and smeared with blood, was Will. The boy's breath was shallow and strained, his eyes closed, either in pain or unconsciousness Halt wasn't sure. Giving a shout of warning, Halt crouched, bracing his shoulder against the boar's side and shoving roughly. Realizing the situation, Baron Arald darted over, dropping his pike to help pull the small boy out from under the huge beast, shouting orders.

"Will..." Hart murmured, cradling the boy's head in his lap. One of the men, a healer, sent with them to help with any serious wounds gained during the hunt, crouched next to them, his face pale as he worked. Will's neck was bloody, his throat gored open by one of the boar's tusks. Luckily, the sharp horn had missed his jugular by centimeters, cutting instead through his skin and muscle, clipping his voice box and his windpipe. The healer worked as fast as he could, cleaning and then binding the wound as best as he could.

"We need to get back to the castle now." Halt growled, lifting his apprentice, cradling his head carefully so as not to shift the bandage around his neck too much. Already, the white fabric was staining red in small spots. Arald nodded, taking Will while Halt swung up onto Abelard's saddle, then handed the frail boy back to the gruff looking man. Halt nodded his thanks and without saying a word, touched his heels to the horses flanks. Abelard, snorting in worry, launched into a smooth gallop, tearing past the hunting party and heading for Castle Redmont, Will's own horse, Tug, following just as quickly. "Hold on Will..."

The infirmary was busy, healers running to and fro, calling orders and scuttling about like ants. In a corner, Halt sat quietly, hood drawn up to hide his face in shadow. Gray eyes darted around the room, watching, assessing each movement as the men and women worked to save the life of a small boy with no family name. He caught snatches of conversation, dread filling his heart with every new snippet of information.

'Damn...can't stop...still bleeding.' 'needs air...' 'heart racing...' Halt, normally stoic and unmoveable, even in the most dire of situations, allowed his head to fall, burying his face in his hands as he listened with mounting fear. Then, the worst possible words he could have ever heard. '...stopped breathing...'

* * *

Memories rushed at him, laughter, pain, blood, life, death, battle, magic. They ran through his mind in flashes of color and sound, making his head spin. Faintly, he heard frantic voices before another tidal wave of memory swept him away.

* * *

Halt started in surprise when Will arched off the bed, crackling blue energy surrounding his lithe form. The boy's eyes flew open, once brown irises a deep emerald green that glittered with pain and anguish. A golden glow surrounded his torn throat like a collar, muscle and skin melting back together seamlessly. Then, with a last crackle, the odd energy disappeared, green eyes fading back to brown, though there were still tiny flecks of emerald mixed in. He fell back against the bed, limp, but alive, and deep asleep. The healers were stunned. They didn't know what to think. Even Halt was standing, wide eyed, with his mouth open wide in shock at the scene. Then he snapped his jaw shut and glared.

"Is he alright?" One healer snapped out of his daze and sprang forward, examining Will intently.

"His vitals are great. The wound is gone... it looks like everything's fine." The man related, perplexed...

M.P.O.: Aren't I just the worst? Lol. Now, please review. Never done one like this before and I wanna see what you guys think before I start really getting into it. Do you WANT me to continue? Or do you think I should drop it here and now? Cuz otherwise it's going to consume my brain...


	2. Chapter 2

**M.P.O.: Glad you guys liked this. :) I know I should probably stop posting new idea's and just finish my old ones, but I have no inspiration for the others at the moment. It's annoying. But when in doubt, write it out, so I'm just writing anything and everything in an attempt to get my brain going again. On another note, I'm terribly sorry that this has taken so long to get out. Not gonna bore you with tales of how busy I was or what family drama happened, Cuz I think we all know how the writing game goes sometimes. Either way, thanks to those who reviewed and please enjoy the next chapter, even if it is a short one... sorry...**

Chapter 2:

A few days after the boar hunt and subsequent near death of Halt's apprentice, said boy finally awoke. His head was pounding, like one of Halt's armor piercing arrows slamming into the target that was his brain. Lifting a hand, he rubbed the gunk out of his eyes, and opened them slowly. Redmont Infirmary was quiet, a faint light peeking in through the windows as the sun came up. Beside his bed, fast asleep in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position, was Halt, cowl in place and hand resting on his Saxe knife's hilt. Will smiled wearily, calling the Ranger's name.

"..." He frowned, a tint of confusion sparking his his brown eyes, and tried again. "..." Nothing came out. His lips formed the word, his brain gave the signal... but no sound, not even a whisper, left his mouth. Shaking, he tried again, even yelling the name, though it did no good, as there was no sound to be heard. Finally, he stopped, tears rolling down his cheeks as he realized what it meant. Shoulders quivering with silent sobs, he turned, curling into the soft pillow, and screamed in his mind. _'HALT!'_

Hidden as his face was by the pillow, Will didn't see Halt jump as though shocked. The elder Ranger looked confused, frowning at the room before his gray eyes swept over to land on Will. A blink, then Halt stood, settling on the bed and resting a hand on Will's shoulders, stilling the quivering.

"Will?" The man murmured, frowning slightly. Hearing the familiar gruff tone, Will turned from the pillow, tears staining his cheeks, and clung to his mentor, sobbing for all he was worth. Startled, Halt froze before wrapping his arms around the small frame, already seeing the problem. Even injured, Will was a chatterbox, always had been. And now that he was sobbing, silently and without noise but for the intake of his breath and the soft sniffling sounds, Halt knew something was terribly wrong.

* * *

"He cannot speak? How? The healer said everything was fine? There's not even a scar!" Baron Arald frowned at the latest news on Will, one hand on his chin in thought. Halt was standing in front of him, cowl thrown back and arms crossed.

"Not a whisper passes his lips. It is...eerie... to see him like this. He hasn't stopped sniffling yet." The Ranger muttered, frowning darkly. To his left, sitting in a chair, was Lady Pauline. She too was frowning, though in curiosity more than anything.

"This blue and gold energy... it is strange. I've never heard of such an occurrence, anywhere in the Kingdom. Has there been any other signs of the strange energy?" She asked, looking up. Halt shook his head.

"No, I've not seen any other strange happenings... but..." He paused, frowning.

"What is it?" Arald asked.

"Before I knew he could not speak, while I was sleeping at his bedside, I heard a voice scream my name. It sounded very much like Will, and when I looked at him, the boy was awake and crying. It makes no sense." Halt frowned, pacing in a small circle with his hand on his chin.

"Odd indeed..." Arald murmured, leaning back in his chair. Silence ensued for a few minutes as everyone thought. Then Pauline spoke.

"Who will teach him hand-speak?" She asked, looking up. Halt paused, blinking.

"I hadn't thought of that..." He muttered, brow furrowing as he thought. "I suppose I could bring Gilan back... He learned it a few years out of his apprenticeship if I remember correctly. Said something about once having a deaf girlfriend..." Arald nodded.

"I'll send a missive out to Crowley and see if he can be released of his fief-duties until Will learns the language." Halt nodded.

"Thank you. I am off to take Will home. The boy is getting no better in that hospital. I think he will do better at home." Arald smiled.

"Tell him that I am sorry for how things turned out. If we had known there was more than one..."

"Don't. None of us are to blame, anything could have happened. If Will had not slowed it with his arrow, it would have torn his head from his shoulders, as gruesome as that is, and I am thankful that he is still with us." Pauline nodded, smiling lightly, and stood.

"Halt is right Baron. Let us be thankful that he is with us in the present, instead of reflecting on the past."

* * *

_...brightly colored lights flashed, streams of sickly green, orange, red and purple flying in every direction. Tall figures in black cloaks and bone white masks danced with other figures in varying colors, screams and laughter setting the beat for the intricate weaving of death and destruction. _

_"Harry!" A voice yelled from nearby. He turned, blasting one of the figures away with a nasty neon blue stream of light, and searched for the sound. A girl with somewhat bushy hair darted to his side and tugged on his arm, careful to avoid the sword clenched in his fist. "Dumbledore's fallen! We have to go!" She cried. He frowned and shook her off, already striding towards the faint thrum of raw black power. _

_"No. We need to finish this today." She froze, tears in her eyes, then seemed to crumple and nodded. _

_"Right... Please... come back Harry." He gave her a small smile, and headed into the fray..._

Will woke with a startled gasp, tangled in his blanket and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He slowly calmed and turned on his side to stare at the wall, one hand tucked under his pillow while he thought.

'Couldn't have been a dream... it was too real... but I've never been there... and my name isn't Harry...' He frowned in thought, closing his eyes to remember. 'And those odd lights? I've never seen anything like it... Maybe Halt will know...' He shook his head slightly and settled back down to sleep, turning the odd dream over in his head.

**M.P.O.: You like? Dislike? Tell me PLEASE. Answers to some of the questions reviewed below...**

**What's going to happen?: That would be telling now wouldn't it? Besides... I don't quite know that myself. XD**

**Is Harry going to share a body with Will? Or will Harry take over?: Harry doesn't have a conciousness in Will, so no there is no sharing of bodies, nor will there be any takeover. Basically all of Harry's memories and his magic transferred to Will. Harry himself isn't there, but everything he's learned and done IS. Get it?**

**There will probably be another long break between updates again. I'm really sorry that they're so long. I need to get ahold of the first book again to use as a guide, and I also have other fics to try and post for too. Bear with me. I'm trying my hardest to get everything finished. :)**

**Enormous thanks to**: **sunnydayz101**; RoMyThe; **Rowana Renee**; Ginny Wesley Potter; **MEep**; Mourningstar13; **Phynixfire**; psychocitten; and **CrimsonLuna**.


	3. Chapter 3

**_M.P.O.: Hello all! It's been a long time since my last update, I know. A lot has happened, but I won't bore you with the details. I actually hadn't been working on this fic until a new review hit my email this morning. You all have crazy-about-books to thank for getting my muse off her ass again. XD Please enjoy this new chapter, and don't hate me too much for the admitedly long break between posting_. **

**Chapter 3:**

Gilan made it to Redmont three days after Halt and Will returned to the cabin they called home. Will had been outside at the time, practicing with his knives to keep his mind busy while Halt moved a second cot into his room. Their new companion rode up on a golden brown mare, cowl thrown back to reveal sandy brown hair and laughing hazel eyes. Will studied the new face, memorizing the strong jaw, the slight wrinkles from years of laughter, and a few faint scars from something or another. The young man was so different from Halt's stoic self that Will couldn't help but smile, relieved to have someone as bouncy as he was for once.

"Crowley said you needed my help. What's up old man?" Gilan called cheerfully, swinging down from his horse with practiced grace. Halt gave him a blank look and turned slightly, motioning to Will, who collected his knives and made his way over, head tilted to one side.

"I need you to teach Will here hand-speak. He's recently lost his voice, and needs some way to comunicate." Halt answered gruffly, clapping a hand on Will's shoulder. Gilan nodded thoughtfully, crouching to look Will in the eye.

"Well that I can do. Name's Gilan lad. Former Apprentice to this grumpy old dog." He grinned, ignoring Halt's annoyed huff. Will smiled and turned, looking up at Halt. He pointed inside, then at his weapons, indicating that he wished to go clean up. Halt nodded.

"Start the stove while you're in there. We need coffee and stew for tonight." He added, gesturing for Gilan to follow him. Will bounced inside, the door squeaking shut after him. Halt sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sitting in a chair outside. Gilan, frowning slightly, sat next to him, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin on one hand.

"How?" He asked, knowing that Halt would know what he wished to know. Halt ran a hand through his hair, sitting back and locking gray eyes with hazel.

"There was a boar in the area, so Baron Arald gathered the knights and we set off with Will and his friend Horace in tow..."

Three weeks passed and Will's days were filled with lessons. During the morning he would first clean around the hut, then Halt would send him to the field to practice with his knives until lunch. After lunch he would practice with Tug, learning to ride with the shaggy pony instead of just on him, then after cleaning out the stalls and seeing to the horses, he would practice with the bow. Gilan's lessons were after dinner, lasting until the moon had risen.

The nights however, were strange, filled with dreams that were too real to be imagination, sometimes good, other times like living nightmares. He had taken to writing down these dreams in a journal of sorts, since he could not explain to Halt what was wrong. The next morning he would read over it, comparing them with the former dreams. What he found was confusing, and he didn't know what to think of it, nor how to explain it to anyone else. It was like he had someone elses' memories, almost as if he had lived it himself. He had noticed that after the dreams, the ones where this 'Harry' was hurt, that he hurt as well, like a faded echo of the pain. Often the dream pain was so intense that he would wake, writhing in his bed with tears streaming down his cheeks. Those mornings were the worst, because he always felt nausous and sick for hours afterwards. Halt noticed after it happened three times in a row and cornered him, determined to find out what was hurting his apprentice so. Will, unable to lie to his mentor, showed him the book and pointed out those dreams that affected him the most. The elder Ranger didn't know what to make of it, but encouraged him to keep writing them down and went so far as to go easy on him when the dreams were bad enough to effect his performance during the day.

_Dream #5:_

_The room is wide and circular, torches hanging from brackets along the walls. The walls and floor are gray, and the ceiling is high, stretching far above my head. Steps, only five in all, lead into a depression in the center of the chamber. a mirror stands in the center, gold edged with beautiful carvings on the frame. Words arch across the top, at first appearing to be an odd language, but then revealed to simply be backwards. _

'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi.' _I show not your face but your hearts desire. _

_There is a man standing before it, muttering to himself. He wore a purple Turban and black robes, and his skin was pale, like that of a corpse. He turned, catching sight of me standing behind him and smiled. _

_"You!" i gasped, eyes wide in astonishment. This wasn't who i had been expecting. _

_"Me." He answered calmly, watching me. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter." _

_"But I thought- Snape-" I sputtered, frozen in place with shock._

_**Fade**_

_A hospital, white walls and sheets, with that sharp clean smell that seems to invade your nose and mouth with it's excessive odor. I'm in the fourth bed from the door, my hands resting on my lap, both bandaged with clean white gause. There was a table next to the bed, overflowing with candy and cards of all different colors. A man is sitting in the chair next to me, old with a long white beard that tucked into his belt, bushy white eyebrows, and a kind, grandfatherly smile under blue eyes half hidden behind crescent moon spectacles. _

_"Sir?" I asked quietly. "I've been thinking... Sir- even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, i mean, You-Know-Who-"_

_"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."_

_"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he?I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"_

_"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share...not being truely alive, he cannot be killed..."_

_**End Dream**_

_**M.P.O.: It's not much, but at least it's something! I need to get my hands on a copy of the first book before I can write any more though, so bear with me. I have a full set of the HP books (though I don't need them to write ffn for them... .) but I don't own a single copy of the Ranger's Apprentice books. *sigh* Again, enormous thanks to Crazy-about-books for getting me back to writing on this. Her review was the first one I'd had in months for this fic and it got me back on track. ^.^ **_

_**Anyway, in keeping with the traditions, please review, tell me what you think, whether you hate it or not. I don't mind flames, but if you're going to send them, please use spell check so that I can accurately figure out what you're attempting to yell at me for. **_

_**Reviewed Questions answered below:**_

_**Will this story be continued?: As soon as I can get a copy of the first RA form my library. I'm not giving up, on any of my fics, it's just taking me a while to get back into the writing mood. **_

_**Will Harry be able to speak telepathically with Will?: Harry is dead. The only things left of our dear Boy-Who-Lived are the memories that Will dreams of, and his magic, which is now Will's. There will be no Harry talking to Will, nor will Harry give any advice. I simply used Harry's death in that world to give will magic in this one. The memories are to help him learn how to use this new magic, and there is no connection to Harry, Voldemort, or anyone else. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**M.P.O.: I have a copy of the book! I borrowed it from my library, so I'll have at least two weeks to write and hopefully post some more on this. ^_^ Enormous thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. Made me happy to know that more than one person still reads this fic. Please note that I JUST finished typing this chapter up and I'm about to go swimming. I'll read over it and check it for spelling/grammar screw ups later, so if you spot any, please tell me so I can find them easier. Review Questions (or quirky comments) will be answered at the end of the chapter, but for now, enjoy!**_

Chapter 4:

The winter season was rearing it's crispy head, with fresh snow covering the ground nearly every morning. Gilan, having taught all the signs he knew to both Will and Halt, had returned to his own fief to prepare for the Gathering. Halt had said that it was the one time a year when all fifty Rangers gathered to share news, discuss problems, and present apprentices for testing. Will was practicing nearly 24 hours a day, determined to pass the exams even with only 7 months training.

He was currently in the meadow behind the cottage, firing at four different targets, randomizing his shots and making sure not to hit the same target twice in a row. Halt had set him this excersize, with the requirement that he take no more than five seconds between each shot. Knowing better than to protest, he had set out to do just that, managing to finish with most of the arrows clustered in the bullseye or the inner ring. Smiling faintly at his accomplishment, he set the short recurve bow down and turned to gather his arrows, stopping mid-step when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Spinning slowly on one foot, he tilted his head at the three boys standing behind him. Each carried a thick cane and wore the red surcoat of a Battleschool Second-year, so he nodded at them, relaxing a little. the closest, a handsome blond with a decent supply of muscle, smiled at him.

"Would you be Will, the Ranger's apprentice?"

Will smiled and nodded, giving them an inquisitive look at the same time. The Ranger cloak about his shoulders clearly marked him as an apprentice, but he figured they were being polite.

"We've brought a message from the Battleschool for you," the boy replied. Will frowned, wondering what message they could have for him. From Horace maybe? He knew he hadn't had a chance to speak to the other boy since the boar hunt, but he didn't think Horace would be so busy as to send three older boys with a message for him. The first boy had moved closer, his companions- a red head with freckles and a crooked nose, and an olive skinned lad who was the tallest of the group- flanking him on either side. Will backed off a step, a faint tingle warning shooting up his spine and making his fingers twitch.

"It's about what happened at the boar hunt," The redhead started in, his flat tenor making Will uncomfortable. Something in the air was setting his senses on alert and he didn't like it. He knew that the towns-folk had been spreading word about the hunt, exaggerating the tale in a few different ways, most of which centered around Will's 'heroic' attempt to sacrific himself for the Battleschool Apprentice that had accompanied the hunters. Gesturing helplessly and trying to communicate that he had no say in what the villagers gossipped about, he backed up another step as they moved closer.

"Don't try to play innocent cripple with us, it won't work." The redhead snapped, eyes flashing. The olive skinned boy stepped forward this time, speaking up.

"You made us all look foolish. A shrimp like you 'defending' the clumsy first year Battleschool student, as if. Playing the crippled kid to get attention." The taller boy snarled, leaning down slightly to try and intimidate the smaller apprentice. Will took another step back, his eyes wide, and shook his head in denial. Distracted as he was by the tallest boy, Bryn, he didn't notice the blond, Alda, coming up on the side, a bag held between his hands, ready to slip over Will's head. Catching the slight sound of movement from the side, will ducked at the last second, narrowly escaping being trapped under the hood's grasp, and rolling forwards, under Bryn's legs and sything his legs to bring down Alda while the other boy was distracted. Unfortunately he'd forgotten about the redhead, Jerome, and as he rolled to his feet the last boy's cane swung around, impacting across his shoulders with a ringing crack.

Tears springing to his eyes, Will stumbled forwards, unable to block the strike from Bryn's cane as it snapped against his side, or the hood that Alda managed to slip over his head and tighten in place, trapping his arms to his sides. The three boys laughed, each taking another hit as Will sunk to his knees, sobbing silently. The pain was intense, and he screamed out in his thoughts, calling for help that he knew wouldn't come, because no one could hear him.

_'HALT! HELP ME!'_ He cried, tucking himself into as small a ball as he could manage, hoping to lessen the damage on his sensitive stomach and chest. He could feel his chest filling with a comforting heat, the soothing warmth flowing down his arms. A faint echo, remembered from one of his dreams, swam into the forefront of his mind.

_'EXPELLIARMUS!'_ His mental voice thundered, all of the pain and anger at the boys' actions against him expelled in that one word. Blinded by the bag, he was unable to see the shock on the faces of his tormentors as their canes flew way from them, struck from their hands by thick bolts of neon blue lightning.

"You little freak," Bryn growled, pulling his foot back. "Think you can scare us do you?" His foot swung forwards, connecting with the center of Will's back with a dull thud. Will arched in pain, mouth open in a silent scream. A mere second later, as the other two were rearing back for more kicks, a voice rang out, startling them all.

"That's enough!"

Will went boneless with relief, recognizing Horace's voice, though it sounded hoarse and fairly dripped with pent up anger. Bryn turned, sneering at Horace while Jerome gathered the canes, which hadn't flown far. Alda, accepting the thick wooden stick, grinned, taunting his fellow apprentice.

"Baby followed us."

"Baby wants another beating." Jerome piped up from the side.

"And Baby's going to get it." Bryn finished, his voice filled with self-confidence and malice. Will, still curled in a protective ball, shivered, fearing for his friend, and wished he could see. The hood was stifling, made of thick brown fabric that both obscured his vision and made it hard to breathe. A sudden yelp made him jump and he wiggled, attempting to free himself in order to see what was going on. A second yelp to his right made him smile as he recognized the dull thud of a thick arrow hitting wood.

_'Halt...'_ He thought happily, stilling once more as he listened for the older Ranger.

"I think one at a time is fairer, don't you?" the Ranger's voice was calm, cold and quiet, and yet it carried from his place hidden in the shadows. Will could almost see him, standing in a deceptively loose stance, an arrow knocked and ready at the massive longbow he always used. Alda, either extremely stupid, or stubbornly rebellious ('Same thing,' Will thought sourly), stood his ground, attempting to bluster his way through the situation.

"This is Battleschool business, Ranger. You'd best stay out of it." Will winced. The arrogant words were sure to spark Halt's infamous temper, and he almost felt sorry for the young whelp, until a throb from his aching shoulders and side put a stop to any pity he might have felt otherwise.

"Battleschool business, is it, sonny?" Halt's voice was dangerously low, and Will could feel him moving across the ground, swiftly and silently covering the distance between them in seconds. Alda stood firm, growing more confident as he realized exactly how short the elder man really was.

"i seem to notice that there was a Ranger apprentice being attacked," Halt continued softly, dark eyes boring into the upstart in front of him. Alda audibly sneered.

"Make it your business if you like. I really don't care one way or the other."

"Well then, I think I will make it my business... But I won't be needing this." Will felt the bow land near him and blinked, confused. What happened next was fast enough to make his head spin and he couldn't even see it. He heard a crunch, a yelp, another thud as something impacted something else and the panicked breathing.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again, boy." Halt said, so softly that Will had to strain his ears to catch the faint words. "And don't ever lay a hand on my apprentice again. Understand?" There was a pause, filled only by stunned silence and harsh breathing.

"Understand?" Halt repeated, shifting a little.

"Yes...sir." Alda croaked in reply, sinking to the ground when Halt released him. Will heard the faint sound of metal on leather and smiled in amusement, realizing what Halt had done. He turned his attention back to the group as Halt turned to the other apprentices.

"You," The Ranger spat, his words edged with contempt, "Pick up your cane." There was a pause as one of the two shuffled around, picking up the indicated item.

"Now give me back my arrow." Halt ordered. Will listened as the boy struggled to remove the heavey arrow and stepped closer to hand it to the man, taking a quick step back again afterwards. Halt chuckled lightly, sounding disgusted, and turned to Horace, who had stood silently so far.

" I take it these are the three who gave you those bruises?" Will frowned. He hadn't realized Horace was hurt too. He perked up when the young swordmaster replied decisively.

"Yes, sir."

"I rather thought so," Halt continued. "Well then, I've heard rumors that you're pretty good with a sword. How about a practice bout with this hero in front of me?"

"I think I'd like that." Bryn, the coward, protested, backing away.

"Just a moment! You can't expect me to..." Will gave a soft snort as he heard Halt take a step forward.

"You've got a cane. I suggest you use it. Now get on with it." Halt ordered gruffly before stepping back and crouching beside Will. Keeping one eye on the admittedly onesided fight, he gently untied the rope binding the bag to Will's sides and slipped it off. Will sighed with relief, breathing in an enormous lungful of clean air and relaxing against the grass. Halt frowned, noticing the bruises on his hands, and shifted the cloak aside to get a better look, fingers tracing gently over the abused flesh. For every wince Will made, his frown deepened and his eyes grew darker.

"Sir Rodney will want to be a part of this." He muttered, helping Will sit up and sweeping his cloak over the smaller boy, hiding him from view. Will huddled against his mentor, grateful for the time to recompose himself and wipe away the tear tracks. He stayed there for a moment, soaking up the warmth and subtle affection halt was giving, before tapping the man's arm. Nodding, Halt moved his arm to the side, letting will out from under the cloak while his gaze remained on the two boys fighting. Now and then he would give suggestions, almost smirking as Horace thoroughly trounced Bryn in a matter of minutes. At one point Jerome had tried to slip away, only to be stopped at a word from Halt and a pointed finger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The redheaded menace turned and froze, for Will was standing a few feet away, an arrow knocked and ready to fire, aimed at the boy's left calf. Unwilling to test his shoulders at the moment, Will merely stood as though he were ready and able to fire within a seconds notice, his eyes flashing a deep, emerald green.

Within another ten minutes Horace had cowed the other two and all three were nursing injuries, whimpering like beaten dogs or in the case of Alda, lying unconscious. Horace stepped back from his fallen enemy and smiled, rubbing his hand and giving a satisfied sigh.

"You have no idea how good that felt." The boy said, looking at Halt. "Thank you, Ranger."

Halt merely nodded, glancing at Will. "Thank you for taking a hand when they attacked Will. And by the way, my friends call me Halt." Will smiled, signing something.

'Or grumpy old fart.' He grinned. Halt shot him a glare, but it lacked the usual fire.

"Don't push it."

_**M.P.O.: I do hope that this chapter was more to your satisfaction my dear readers. ^_^ Anything familiar to the book is probably quoted, as I tried to keep with the flow of events and didn't want to change up the dialogue too much, and No, I don't own it. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for it now would I? Review Q&A below.**_

_**You're not dead!- Nope, don't plan on it either. XD Though I may have extremely long breaks between postings, I will always update at some point. And If I do end up dead at some point, I'll be sure to have a friend tell you all so that you don't have to worry. **_

_**Enormous thanks to That Random Kid Over There, Crazy-About-Books, and Hanzo of the Salamander for reviewing and showing me that there is more than one person still reading my ramblings. This one's for you all. **_


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